Sharp as a needle are her words;
Her wit like pepper bites.
Brisk as a body-louse she trips,
Clean as a penny drest:
Sweet as a rose her breath and lips,
Round as the globe her breast.
Full as an egg was I with glee,
And happy as a king:
Good Lord! how all men envied me!
She lov'd like any thing.
But, false as Hell, she, like the wind,
Chang'd as her sex must do;
Though seeming as the turtle kind,
And like the Gospel true.
If I and Molly could agree,
Let who would take Peru!
Great as an emp'ror should I be,
And richer than a Jew.
Till you grow tender as a chick,
I'm dull as any post:
Let us like burs together stick,
And warm as any toast.
You'll know me truer than a die,
And wish me better sped,
Flat as a flounder when I lie,
And as a herring dead.
Sure as a gun she'll drop a tear,
And sigh, perhaps, and wish,
When I am rotten as a pear,
And mute as any fish.
